Hickory Dickory Dock

Hickory Dickory Dock

Hickory dickory dock, The mouse ran up the clock. The clock struck one, the mouse ran down, Hickory dickory dock. But this wasn't your average mouse, with whiskers so fine, This was Bartholomew, a scholar of time. He scurried up the clock face, not for cheese, but to decipher the mysteries of each golden chime. The clock struck two, and Bartholomew paused, tiny ears twitching. He squeaked, "This rhythm! It's a code, a message enriching!" He scampered down, his tail swishing with excitement untold, Determined to unlock the secrets the clock did unfold. The clock struck three, and Bartholomew gathered his supplies, A magnifying glass cobbled from a dewdrop and a fly's tiny eyes. He examined the cogs, the pendulums' sway, The intricate dance that marked each passing day. The clock struck four, and a triumphant squeak filled the air, Bartholomew had cracked the code, a solution beyond compare! He understood the language of ticks and of tocks, The symphony of time, a message from the clocks. The clock struck five, and Bartholomew, with a scholar's delight, Shared his newfound knowledge, shining ever so bright. He taught the other mice the secrets he'd found, Of minutes and hours, on magical time-bound ground. From then on, the mice weren't just cheese connoisseurs, They were timekeepers extraordinary, erasing all blurs. Hickory dickory dock, a nursery rhyme so true, But for Bartholomew, the clock held a different view.